What Carol Said
by frizzle1872
Summary: She always felt like such a burden, but she never was...


**A\N Oh...hey there... ;) So how ya'll doing! Lordy, I feel like I haven't written something in forever! **

**Well here I am! :D**

**I got sudden inspiration, so I was all like, 'Yes! Writing! Fun!' And thus, was born this little something or other xD**

**So I hope ya'll like it! Please review and tell me what'cha think 'cause I worked real hard on this!**

**Anyways, I don't own this lovely creation :P**

**Okay! Story time, ya'll! :)**

No one ever listened to Carol Mae Peletier. Her entire life was full of screaming and crying painfully for attention she never received. Unless of course you call both physical and verbal beatings attention, then in that case, she never stopped getting attention.

When the world she had grown accustomed to vanished right before her crystal eyes, she thought only about the well-being of her daughter, something Carol did often. She'd offer her her coat, and gave her the best warm smile she could muster. Carol needed to protect her daughter, even if that meant she would die, then so be it.

Her mother often told her she didn't need to be listened to because she had nothing interesting to say. Carol didn't know if that was true or not, but it must have been, or her mother wouldn't have said it, right? Being part of Rick's group wasn't much better as she was surrounded by a group of diverse individuals who could speak up for themselves, who were confident...

And needed.

So instead Carol molded into the background, supplying the group with another mouth to feed, another burden. She often did wonder why she was still alive when she was amidst these people. She didn't do much or help any of them. Sure, she did the endless piles of laundry, and washed their cracked plates and she watched the children with a careful eye, but she felt that it was never enough.

When the anchor that held her down finally bit the dust, she felt herself smile a bit more, though she had nothing to smile about. She mostly enjoyed the feeling of it, because she never got to when Ed stalked around her, eying his delicate prey.

She tried to speak up more, then. To state her opinion and let the others know that innocent, sweet Carol could also be confident and sure...but it never happened. That was a figment of her imagination. Sure, she said more, but nothing in the context of, 'Let's kill these motherfuckers!'

Carol often found herself craving Sophia's attention. Of course it was out of unconditional love for her...but also because Sophia was the only one who really needed her. She ran to her mother for help, and gave her the sweetest hugs. Carol couldn't get enough of those hugs, yet when her daughter was ripped away from her in a millisecond, she felt like she never had enough.

After that, most days Carol felt like there would be nothing to say to make anything in that shit of a world better. Well, that was before she really started to notice Daryl Dixon, the man who always had a cold scowl on his face, the man who had a standoffish personality, and the man who couldn't have been more different than Carol in every aspect (not including anatomy) even if he tried to be.

It started out with just casual looks and peaks at each other. Carol would nonchalantly brush his hand while handing him his laundry, and his hand would discreetly snake it way up to her shoulder as he passed her. They didn't need to speak to each other to know the attraction and mutual respect was there, and Carol liked it that way.

Besides, she wouldn't have thought of anything to say to him anyways.

Soon it became a little more than a simple touch. He finally connected their lips one day, and it let Carol feel free to like who she did, which was only Daryl, but still. She loved every time she was with him, because she felt appreciated and home. Soon though, her happy play was coming to a close.

Hershel couldn't figure out on why just because she was at the simple age of forty-one, why she was getting so sick and frail. She became susceptible to anything and everything there was. Most days, she was in bed, trying to look strong for the sympathetic eyes that looked down on her. She felt like a such a burden again, hating the weak feeling she always had again. After a couple of days though, she would be back on her feet again, ready to tackle the world, though she never did what she thought she would.

Finally, when Winter came, the delicate snow bombarded Carol hard, and she knew, that Tuesday of December, she was going to die. She chuckled a bit at the thought crossing her mind. _What a boring day to die for a boring old woman like me..._Everyone came to visit her and give her unneeded tears and distraught looks. She waited as long as she could for Daryl, to tell him goodbye, the only words she could muster to give him. She waited five long, agonizing hours before she finally gave up.

And Carol Mae Peletier died.

Daryl came back to the sobbing of the women in the house and he knew what happened. He couldn't exactly pinpoint what he was feeling. Whether it was anger because he wasn't with the woman he loved, or if it was remorse for the loss of the only person he felt had loved him his entire life. Either way, he was feeling something, and he couldn't stand it. Soon, they buried her body deep within the below-zero ground and moved on, hoping to forget about that horrible loss they had endured.

All of them wished they had spoken to the kind woman more. She was always giving and giving, and in return she was ignored and neglected.

They all soon forgot what Carol said, because she never had a chance to say anything.


End file.
